


In the Bath

by DragonFields



Category: Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age - All Media Types, Dragon Age II, Dragon Age: Inquisition, Dragon Age: Origins
Genre: Dragon Age Kink Meme, M/M, Prompt Fill, handers - Freeform, hawke x anders - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-12-04
Updated: 2016-12-04
Packaged: 2018-09-06 08:14:53
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,142
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8742013
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DragonFields/pseuds/DragonFields
Summary: This is my first foray into publishing fanfic... The prompt from the DA Kink Meme is for Anders and Hawke and some rimming...





	

* * *

 

_From Anders' Perspective..._

* * *

 

The bathwater fills the tub to the brim. It's freezing, but I know what to do about that—magically heating things seems to be my most useful talent these days. Maker knows, I'm not good for much else. That's why it's so _surprising_ —that Garrett Hawke wants me _at all_. He _says_ he loves me. I’m not even sure what that _means_ …

I sigh and lower myself into the now-steaming water. After the day I’ve had, it feels _ridiculously_ good, even if it _is_ in the middle of my shitty little clinic. —at least it’s _mine_. I close my eyes and let my mind wander. Of course it wanders to _him_. Hawke is a permanent resident of my mind now. He’s there whether I want him to be or not—whether I _deserve_ him or not. He’s reclining on a bed— _his_ bed—thin sheets covering only the most intimate of his anatomy. I imagine running my hands down his sides and pushing the fabric back until his cock springs out at me—hard and leaking _and_ —

“Anders?” he calls.

I sit up suddenly, splashing water over the sides of the tub. “Hawke?” I cough and look down at my erection through the clear water. I think about trying to hide it, but he’s already kissing my cheek, wrapping his hands around my shoulders.

“You’re going to get all wet, Love,” I chide.

He laughs, “I’m planning on it…” He stands and drops his heavy plate on the floor. It lands with a crash, but I hardly react because the bulk of his muscles distracts me.

“Push over,” he smirks as the last of his clothing becomes a memory.

I do it without thinking. _Maker, I’m in so deep._ I’d probably do _anything_ he told me to. He flinches when he touches the scalding water, but smiles and sits in front of me anyway—knee to knee.

“I was thinking about you all day,” he whispers against my lips.

“I was too…” I admit, looking down at my embarrassingly hard erection.

He follows my gaze, “thank the maker I wasn’t the only one,” he breathes.

He encircles my cock with his finger and thumb and strokes. It’s too light—too _gentle_. It makes me feel internally itchy—desperate for more.

“Fuck, Garrett….” I mumble. Something about my mind snaps when we’re together—I can’t stop swearing.

He laughs, “Tell me what you were doing before I came in…” He kisses me and bites the skin at the edge of my jaw.

I groan and try to clear my head. “I was imagining you… _in bed_ …”

He strokes me faster, letting his other fingers join the circle of his index and thumb.

“...you were so hard for me,” I mumble, reaching out for him. When my fingers find his cock in the water, it’s swollen and veiny. “Just like this…” I add.

He moans and pulls me into his lap. Our cocks brush. In the heat of the water, I feel like we’re wrapped in a warm blanket. My whole body thrums with arousal.

“...and what did I _do_ to you in this daydream?” he asks, taking hold of both our cocks. He starts to massage them—gentle, sweet.

“I didn’t get that far— _someone_ interrupted me,” I joke.

He laughs.

“But I could show you what I had in mind,” I raise an eyebrow daringly.

He nods.

“Stand up,” I command.

He squints at me.

“I said…” I kiss him and bite his bottom lip a little too hard, “ _stand up_ …”

He shivers and stands, water beading off of his body. The sight of him makes me brave—he’s intimidatingly handsome: fine golden hair covers the center of his chest and leads seamlessly to his impressively large cock. His muscles are full and defined—the body of someone who is as athletic as he is brawny.

“You’re _gorgeous_ ,” I mumble, circling him.

He laughs.

I drag my fingertips across his hip and eventually palm his ass as I settle in behind him, kneeling. His ass is one of his best features—it’s full and strong and almost _striated_. As I part it with my palms, he gasps.

“What are you doing?” he asks.

“Something you’re going to love,” I whisper. I lean in to kiss the apex of each cheek. His skin is taut and smooth and better than the entirety of my experience with men. He’s _perfect_.

As I kiss my way toward the center, he starts to shake. “Anders, you don’t _have to_.”

I laugh, “I know that…”

When my tongue finds his hole, he pitches forward to grip the sides of the bathtub. By the second wet kiss, he’s shuddering.

“Oh _fuck_ , Anders…” he mutters.

“Are you okay?” I ask.

“ _Yes_.” He cranes his neck to look at me—he’s smiling breathlessly.

I take that as encouragement and lean back into the cleft of his ass. I lick and suck from his balls to his hole and back again. When I breach him with my tongue, he cries out.

“Oh—oh...ahhh, Anders…” he reaches for his dick and starts to pump it. I’m feeling desperate for contact too, but I resist the urge to touch myself. I want to focus on _him_.

I grab his thighs and push my face further against him. His wet skin makes it hard to hold on, so my fingers grip tighter—indents that will surely leave marks.

My tongue darts in and out of the tight ring of muscle as he pants. The more he touches himself the more open it becomes. I notice that his grip is faltering a little—he must be close.

“Love, how _are_ you?” I ask between kisses. My voice is strangely muffled against his skin.

He mumbles something, but it’s _not_ words—just a string of disconnected syllables.

I wrap my hand around his hip and grab his cock. He lets his hand drop limply and focuses on keeping himself up—his legs are trembling.

Once I have him firmly in hand, I resume my assault of his ass with my lips and tongue, pumping his cock in time.

“Oh, fu—fuck,” he groans a moment later. He comes all over my hand—thick spurts of white beading on the surface of the water below him.

He sinks down into the water, his back pressed against my chest. He’s sweaty and pliable. He melts into me.

“Maker, Anders,” he pants, turning his head to kiss my cheek. “What did I ever do to _deserve_ you?”

I can’t believe he’s saying that. _He’s_ the one who is too good for me. I’ve never met anyone in my life who is as _good_ as he is. At the risk of losing my shit and sobbing all over him, I croak, “ _I love you too, Garrett_.”

 

* * *

 


End file.
